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BY 



NELLIE J. SMITH 

(AGE TWELVE) 




NELLIE J. SMITH 

AS E T W E LVE 



STORIES AND 
POEMS 



BY NELLIE J. SMITH 

(Age Tioelve) 
GAINESVILLE, GEORGIA 



NASHVILLE, TENN. ; DALLAS, TEX. 

PUBLISHING HOUSE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH 

SMITH & LAMAR, AGENTS 

1 90s 



"T'a^^^l 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Two CoDics Received 

FEB 12 1906 



n Cony right Enfry 
CLASS cV XX(;. No. 



(S^t 



0^' 



' COPY B. 






Copyright ^^ 
1W5 
By Nellie J. Smith 



(4 



Sehtrattnn 

This booklet is aflFectionately 
dedicated to my parents and 
grandfather, G. G. Smith, 
and also my dear friend, 
Brother C.N. Crittenton. 

June ist, 1905. 



PREFACE, 

I WISH to thank my friends who have taken an in- 
terest in my story. Also papa and mamma for the 
corrections and suggestions made by them. Brother 
C. N. Crittenton, my good friend, was also very kind 
in writing the Introduction. 

Very truly, * The Author. 



INTBODUCTION, 

Who is there in the world that is not interested in 
children, and especially in little girls? I always 
think that there is something wrong with a person 
if he does not love little girls. My thoughts and 
words now, hov/ever, are about a little girl named 
Nellie Smith, whom four years since I met in Winter- 
ville, Ga., who is now twelve years old, and yet old 
enough to write a beautiful story, in which one char- 
acter is represented as "a noble, generous rich man." 
The story is moral and helpful. Surely the author 
of said story is a beautiful little character, and not 
only is a good writer of prose but also poetry, and I 
commend her and her writings to all. 

Very truly, Charles N. Crittenton. 



COJSTTJERTS. 

PAGE 

Mr, Riley and the Masons 11 

Alfred's Search for the End of the Rainbow. ... 40 

Bessie and Maria; or, The Two Orphans 43 

Marjorie's Birthday 47 

Rob's Resolution 50 

POEMS. 

The Old Folks at Home 55 

The Night the Snowfall Came 55 

Santa Glaus 56 

The Mother and Baby 57 

Grandmother 57 

The Forlorn Girl 58 

Love for the Saviour 59 

Calling 60 

Springtime 60 



ME. RILEY AND THE MASON'S. 



Mr. Riley was a very kind man, and was especially 
a friend to the poor and afflicted. In appearance he 
was tall, but not lank, and had dark hair and dark- 
brown eyes. His wife had a very sweet disposition 
and visited the sick as often as her health would 
permit. She was very devoted to her husband, who 
was also much devoted to her. They had only one 
child, a little girl named Dorothy May. She was a 
very frail child and had been sick a great deal during 
her life. Dorothy was seven years of age, but had 
never been to school on account of the condition of 
her health. She was a beautiful and lovable child, 
but she was a child not easily spoiled. Her father 
was a very wealthy man and a kind father, so little 
Dorothy had all her heart could wish for. She had 
a little doll house which was filled with furniture, 
of course small doll furniture. Then she had dolls 
from two inches to two feet high, and, of course, a 
great many china sets and a doll carriage for almost 
every doll, and everything in the shape of toys that 
a little girl could want. 



12 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

One day her father took her for a walk. While 
taking their walk they decided to stroll through the 
woods. They had not gone a great way when they 
saw a slender figure in the distance. As they ap- 
proached the same they found it to be a poor, pale- 
faced, slender girl about fourteen years of age. 
Upon questioning her they found that her name 
was Lizzie Mason. She lived in Back Alley, and 
her mother was a poor widow who had eight chil- 
dren, the eldest being not more than sixteen years 
of age. She had been left a young widow, and had 
been obliged to work hard since her husband's death 
to support her children. She had, by her hard labor, 
ruined her health and was now confined to her bed 
for a large part of her time. They had nothing now 
to support them but what Johnnie, the eldest one of 
the children, made. His small wages hardly fed the 
widow's large family. 

Mr. Riley was much touched by the pathetic story 
the child had repeated, for as she told him tears ran 
down her pale cheeks. She said she was gathering 
some flowers for her mother, and she had selected 
some wild roses for her as she v/as especially fond 
of them. Mr. Riley asked her to join in their walk, 
but she replied: "I must go to my mother and carry 
the flowers before they get withered." 

Mr. Riley was sorry that she insisted on going, for 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 13 

he wished to know more about her home, and the 
ones abiding therein; but seeing that she wished to 
return to her loved ones, he decided it was best to 
try no longer to deter her. "As you must go," replied 
he, "will you try to be at my residence to-morrow 
afternoon at three o'clock? and I may return with 
you to your home and pay your mother a short visit." 

"Yes, sir, I will be glad to come," responded the 
child; "but, please sir, tell me where your home is." 

"My home is at 67 Fifth Avenue. Almost any one 
can tell you where Mr. Riley lives." 

"Is you Mr. Riley?" questioned she. 

"Yes; and my little daughter is named Dorothy 
May." 

"Well, I must go," said Lizzie. 

"Very well," said Mr. Riley. "Be at my residence 
at the appointed time, and you will lose nothing." 

Lizzie gave Mr. Riley a bunch of the beautiful wild 
roses and also a bunch to the little girl, and they 
bade each other good-by. Mr. Riley told his little 
daughter it was time they were going home, and they 
started homeward. 

Little Dorothy talked a great deal about Lizzie. 
She spoke also about how kind it was to give them 
the sweet roses. She said she wanted to give her 
some of her dresses, hats, caps, bonnets, toys, etc., 
for herself and little sisters; so she selected from 



14 . MK. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

among her things some of the articles named, and 
her mother bundled them up and put them in a nice 
basket, ready for the to-morrow's visitor. 

The little girl came promptly at three o'clock, as 
she had promised. A servant met her at the door and 
invited her into the pleasant sitting room, where Mr. 
Riley and his family were sitting. 

"Good evening, little lady," said Mr. Riley, rising 
from his seat to welcome the little visitor. "Wife, 
this is our little friend, Lizzie Mason," said he. 

"Have a seat," said Mrs. Riley, drawing a chair 
near hers. Dorothy May also welcomed Lizzie. Then 
she removed the little girl's hat. 

Dorothy May drew her chair close to that of her 
mother and said in a low tone: "Please get the 
things, mamma, for Lizzie." 

When they gave Lizzie the basket of nice things, 
the poor child seemed as though she could not bear 
it, she was so rejoiced over the kindness they had 
shown her. 

Mr. and Mrs. Riley and their little daughter ac- 
knowledged to the fact that it was worth twice as 
much as the things to see the joy in the child's face. 

In a short while Mr. Riley ordered his carriage, 
which in a half hour was at the gate. Mr. and Mrs. 
Riley entered the carriage, and were soon driving 
away from their magnificent residence to Lizzie's 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 15 

humble home. Every one in Back Alley was greatly 
surprised to see the fine conveyance stop in front of 
the Masons. Never had such a sight been seen before 
in Back Alley. 

The little party alighted from the vehicle and 
walked slowly into the house. Upon entering they 
found a pale, emaciated woman lying upon a cot. 
Everything in the room was very plain, but neat and 
clean. Mrs. Mason seemed very much pleased to see 
them. 

"Ma, Mr. Riley and his wife and little girl have 
come to see you." 

"I'm glad you all come," said Mrs. Mason. "Lizzie, 
go git some more cheers for 'em." Lizzie obeyed her 
mother's instructions, and returned bringing in some 
chairs for the visitors. 

"Lizzie hain't done narything but talk about you 
all since she seed you in the woods yestidy," said 
Mrs. Mason. 

"I am glad she likes us," answered Mr. Riley. 

"She hain't been treated by nobody as good as you 
all has treated her," continued Mrs. Mason. 

"I would like to do more," said Mr. Riley, "and in- 
tend to." ' 

"We's much obleeged to you all for your kindness 
to us, and would like to do somethin' to pay you for 
your help," said Mrs. Mason. 



16 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

"No, no, no!" answered Mr. Riley, "we are only too 
willing to do something for your pleasure and com- 
fort." 

"Well, you sho' does please us and help us out a 
lot," responded Mrs. Mason. 

"How long has your health been broken?" ques- 
tioned Mrs. Riley. 

"Fur a year or more," answered Mrs. Mason. 

Mr. Riley replied that they had better go, so they 
bade Mrs. Mason and the little Masons good-by. 

The Rileys entered the carriage, and were soon at 
their fine residence. That evening the Rileys sat on 
the large veranda in the twilight and watched the 
moon rise and talked of their visit to the widow 
Mason's. After a while a little colored boy came and 
said that tea was ready. They ate supper and retired 
early. 

Lizzie came to visit Mr. Riley and his family 
often. It was Thursday afternoon when the Rileys 
paid their visit to the Masons, and the next Tuesday 
Lizzie came to Mr. Riley's home. 

"Mr. Riley," said Lizzie, "Johnnie is sick and can- 
not go to his work. The doctor says it is the fever, 
and he hain't got no hope of his gettin' well. The 
man we rent from come and said if we did not hand 
the money for the rent in by Friday, he was goin' to 
take our furniture." Tears stood in Lizzie's eyes 



MR. EILEY AND THE MASONS. 17 

as she spoke of the man taking their simple furni- 
ture. "Here's a letter," said she. 

Mr. Riley took the note, which read thus: 

"Mr. Riley — ^We sho' is in trubble an' destres. The 
man we rent from sez he's goin' to take our furni- 
chure because we ain't abel to pay the rent. Johnny 
is sick and can't work. He is got ther feever. If you 
can lone me five dollers, I sho' will pay you back. I 
hate too ax this favor, but it seems i is obleeged to. 

"Your friend, Cora L. Mason. 

"P. S. — Excuse mistakes." 

Mrs. Riley saw tears rise in her husband's eyes 
as he read the note from the widow Mason. He 
took the note, folded it carefully, and laid it away in 
his fine trunk. He then sat down to his seventy-five- 
dollar desk and wrote the following note in reply: 

"Mrs. Cora L. Mason: Yours just received. In- 
closed you will find ten dollars to help you in your 
trouble. Hope you will get along all right. You need 
not repay it. 

"Very respectfully, F. S. Riley. 

"No. 67 Fifth Avenue, May 14." 

Mr. Riley put in the money, folded the note, and 
handed it to the sad-looking child. She returned 
home. Her mother was leaning against the door 
waiting for her. 
3 



18 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

"Has you got a note?" asked Mrs. Mason. 

"Yes'm," answered Lizzie. "It's on the purtiest 
paper, ma." 

"O, ain't it!" said Mrs. Mason. "Did Mr. Riley 
look like he liked my note?" 

"Yes, ma; he tuck it and put it in his fine trunk, 
and, ma, he folded it in the keerfulest way you ever 
seen anybody fold anything; and he cried when he 
read it too. You jes' oughter have seed him. 

"I'm so sorry he didn't like my note," answered 
Mrs. Mason, with tears running in streams down her 
cheeks. 

"W'y, ma, he liked your note. He mout er been 
feelin' sorry about your trouble, er he mout er been 
cryin' for joy. Ma, please don't cry so! Please! He 
didn't mean no harm; I know he didn't, ma." 

"Is ma cryin', Liz? Whut's ma cryin' about? Ma, 
please don't cry," said little Thomas. 

Mrs. Mason had not read the note Mr. Riley had 
written to her, or she would not have cried, unless 
for joy. Now that she was somewhat comforted, she 
unfolded the note and read it. When she had fin- 
ished, she had entirely changed her mind about Mr. 
Riley not liking her note. She thought him about 
the kindest man in all the world. 

She sent Lizzie to thank Mr. Riley, and to tell him 
she would try and pay him back the money any 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 19 

way if she ever had it to spare. Lizzie returned in 
about one hour from Mr. Riley's home. 

Weeks passed and Johnnie grew no better, only 
worse, and the doctor had no hope of his living a 
week. On Tuesday at three o'clock p.m. Johnnie died 
a triumphant death, with his mother, Lizzie, and Mrs. 
Pitts, a neighbor, by his bedside. Before he died 
he prayed that his mother might be provided for. 

Lizzie carried the news to Mr. Riley, who sympa- 
thized with them very much. "Poor little Mary 
Ann has been cryin' most all day," said Lizzie. 

"I hope she will soon become comforted," replied 
Mrs. Riley. "Bring her over to see us sometime." 

"She ain't got nothin' fitten ter wear over here," 
said Lizzie, her cheeks flushing crimson. "I know 
she would be tickled to death if she could come. 
Good-by; I wish you all would come to the funeral. 
Hit's to be at Poverty Street Mission, by Brother 
Andrews, at half past three o'clock to-morrow 
evenin'." 

"I'll see if I can come, anyway," said Mr. Riley. 

"Lizzie," inquired Mrs. Riley, "have the children 
clothes fit to wear to the funeral?" 

Lizzie's face saddened as she replied, "No, ma'am," 
to Mrs. Riley. 

"Only tarry a few moments longer and they shall 
have some," said Mrs. Riley with a smile. 



20 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

"O, you kind little woman!" exclaimed Lizzie. 

"How is your mother getting on?" asked Mr. Riley. 

"She's a-grievin' mightily about Johnnie," said Liz- 
zie. 

Just then Mrs. Riley came in with a large bundle 
in her hand. "Here are some things for the chil- 
dren," said she. 

"O, ain't they nice?" exclaimed Liazie. "I know 
ma and the children will be glad to get 'em." 

"I hope they will," said Mrs. Riley. "Had not Jack 
[a little colored boy] better take the bundle for her? 
It is real heavy for her to carry all the way." 

"I suppose so," answered Mr. Riley, ringing a small 
bell near by him. 

Jack appeared in a few moments. "What yer want, 
boss?" 

"Take this bundle for the young lady," said Mr. 
Riley. 

"All right, sah," Jack responded. 

Lizzie walked slowly homeward. She heard the 
city clock strike five. Could it be that she had been 
gone from home two hours? Yes, it was true. 

Just as she came in sight of the house her little 
five-year-old brother came running down the street 
exclaiming: "Sis! O, sissy! Whut made you stay so 
long? Ma has been looking for you a long time. A 
little darky brought a bundle here for ma. Ma said 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 21 

she didn't think hit wus fer her, but she said she'd 
keep it till you come and maybe you'd know some- 
thin' 'bout it. An' O, sissy, come an' see what Miss 
Emma has brought to ma. Hit's so purty! She said 
she was goin' to bring me somethin' nice too, an' all 
of us. I wonder if mine will be a stick of candy? I 
know hit would taste good. Don't you, sissy?" 

"O yes, I knov/ all about the bundle," Lizzie re- 
plied; but before she could say more little Tom in- 
terrupted her by saying Miss Emma Morgan had 
planned a pleasant surprise for them. 

"O, what is it? Has she got me a good job?" Liz- 
zie inquired. 

"Of course not," replied Tom; "I don' call workin' 
nice." 

"Well, what is it?" asked his sister, with a look of 
wonderment, curiosity, and expectancy. 

"I won't or I can't tell," said Tom. "I told you 
it wus a s'prise — I believe that's what Miss Emma 
called it." By this time they had reached the gate, 
and all the children came running to meet Lizzie — 
Mary Ann, aged eight; Jane, five; George, twelve; Ed, 
ten; and Bobby, the baby, two years old. 

"Do you know anything 'bout my dress, Liz? 
Hain't it mine, Liz?" asked Mary Ann. 

''I want to tell you something, Liz," said Jane; 
"we've a s'prise fer you." 



22 ME. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

"I'm going to work next week, if ma will let me," 
said George. 

"Somebody's been here — a nice somebody," said Ed. 

"Tisser, Ella Rooney turn to tee 'ou," said Bobby. 

"O, did she? I hope she hain't gone yit." 

"Yes, she's gone long ago," put in Jane. 

"Miss Emma wiis here, and she never come in 
cause she never knowed her," said Mary Ann. 

As soon as the children quieted down Lizzie en- 
tered the scantily furnished room where her mother 
sat weeping. A number of the neighbors were in the 
room, speaking words of comfort to Mrs. Mason. 

"Why, Lizzie, my child!" said Mrs. Mason, "why did 
you stay so long?" 

"0 nothing, only it is so pleasant to stay at Mr. 
Riley's. I know all about the bundle, ma. Mrs. 
Riley sent it to you and the children," 

"O, Mary Ann will be so glad, for she wanted a 
dress she saw in it! She wanted me to keep it, but I 
didn't, caze I never knowed whether hit wus ourn or 
not." 

Perhaps the reader would like to know something 
about the Rileys after Lizzie left. 

"Poor child," said Mrs. Riley with a sigh; "I don't 
know what the poor things will do." 

"Well, they shall not suffer as long as I have any 
money," said Mr. Riley. 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 23 

"Mother," said little Dorothy, "may I not give 
Lizzie and her little sisters some more of my 
things?" 

"Yes, darling, we shall see what can be done. I 
have a nice black dress and your aunt has a black 
veil which she will give Mrs. Mason. I think the 
dress will fit her nicely, and you have many dresses 
I can give the children." 

"0, I'm so glad, mother!" 

"How about shoes and stockings?" asked Mr. Riley. 

"I don't know," answered his wife. 

"Well, here is the money to buy some shoes and 
some left over for any other things you think they 
might need." He placed a ten-dollar bill in her hand. 

"O, dear husband, that is so nice, and I am sure it 
will do them a great deal of good!" 

Mr. Riley only answered: "I hope it will." 

Mrs. Riley went to town that afternoon and bought 
shoes, hosiery, and Lizzie a dress and gloves. She 
went by Mrs. Brown's, the dressmaker, and had her 
make Lizzie's dress and fix over some other things 
for the children. She had the driver take her by her 
sister's (Mrs. Mackey), to get the veil she had prom- 
ised. Besides the veil, her sister sent provisions. 
She then went home. 

"Well, darling," said Mr. Riley, "you have come 
after so long a time." 



24 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

"Yes," she replied; "I stayed rather long, but I 
have had a great deal to attend to." 

"O mother, you did stay so long!" said Dorothy 
May, coming into the room. 

"Yes, dear; I have just told your father I had had a 
great deal to attend to. I went by your Aunt Mamie's 
and got the veil." 

After Mrs. Riley had removed her hat and rested a 
few moments, she opened the bundle and showed 
Dorothy May and Mr. Riley the contents. They were 
much pleased with her selections. 

"When I was up town, I saw George," said Mrs. 
Riley. "He was trying to buy a coffin. He could not 
get one for the money he had, and was crying when 
I saw him. He told me all about it. I told him he 
needn't see about the burial things until in the morn- 
ing and I would help him out." 

"Poor child!" said Mr. Riley. He rang the little 
bell. Jack came, and he ordered him to have the 
buggy ready as soon as possible. Ten minutes later 
Jack and Mr. Riley were on their way to Back Alley. 
They were soon at the Widow Mason's home. "Good 
evening, Mrs. Mason, Miss Lizzie, and all," said Mr. 
Riley, removing his hat. 

"O, Mr. Riley!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason; "I am so 
glad to see you." 

"Thank you," he answered. 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 25 

"You are welcome," replied the widow. 

Mr. Riley felt a little like smiling, but would not 
do so, having respect for Mrs. Mason's feelings. 

"Mrs. Mason," inquired Mr. Riley, "have you made 
any arrangements about Johnnie's funeral?" 

"No, sir," responded she, "we hain't got no coffin 
yit. I sent George to town this evenin', but he didn't 
have enough money to git one. Mr. Jones said he'd 
let me have a wagon. Lizzie went to town to the 
factory, but Mr. Hustler wouldn't let her have John- 
nie's wages cause he liked three days of finishing the 
month. I think hit's a plum shame, to think as hard 
as that poor child worked and then fer him to do 
that way." Mrs. Mason could say no more, for her 
sobs interfered. 

"O yes, it is sl shame!" said Mr. Riley, "and he 
should be punished very severely and made to pay 
besides. He is a very dishonest man, and I hope it 
will come home to him. A man who would do such 
a thing is a scoundrel, and I expect to see that Hus- 
tler pays you what he justly owes you." Mr. Riley 
looked very indignant as he spoke. 

"Are you going to get any carriages for yourself 
and the children?" asked Mr. Riley. 

"Me! W'y I hain't been in er carriage in five 
years," exclaimed Mrs. Mason. 

"Well, I will see to everything," said Mr. Riley. 



26 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

"Thank you!" she said, but I hain't got the money. 

"Never mind about the money." 

"O, I do thank you so much!" she replied. 

Mr. Riley told Mrs. Mason that Mrs. Riley and 
Dorothy May would come to see her the next day. 

Mrs. Mason told Mr. Riley that Miss Emma Mor- 
gan, teaching a mission Sunday school and also a 
literary school, had called to see them and had prom- 
ised to get George a job, and was going to let Mary 
Ann, Ed, and Jane go to her school. 

Mr. Riley told Lizzie that he had a place for a type- 
writer girl and that he would give her the place if 
she understood it. 

"Lizzie hain't edicated enough to do no type- 
writin'!" said Mrs. Mason in astonishment. 

"Miss Emma might teach me," said Lizzie. 

"Well, we'll see," said Mr. Riley. "If you will come 
to my office every day at ten o'clock and remain an 
hour, I will make an earnest effort to teach you to 
typewrite." 

"O, I'd be pleased to come!" said Lizzie. 

"I had better go," said Mr. Riley, "so good-by." 

"Tell Miss Riley and Dorothy May to be sho' an' 
come, an' you come too," said Mrs. Mason. 

When Mr. Riley started out to go to the buggy, he 
saw there was no buggy, nor horse, and Jack too was 
missing. 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 27 

"Reckon he's run away with the horse and 
buggy?" asked Mrs, Mason. 

"I hope not," Mr. Riley answered. 

"Well, I guess if you want to hire a buggy to go 
home in, one of the ehillin can go to town and hire 
one an' bring it down here to you." 

"I would be much obliged to you, Mrs. Mason, if 
you would have one of the children go for a horse and 
buggy." 

"George! O sonny! Go to the stable and git a 
horse and buggy for Mr. Riley." 

"All right, ma," answered George. In a short while 
George came with a horse and conveyance and drove 
him home. 

Mrs. Riley and her little daughter, of course, were 
anxious to know what had become of the horse and 
buggy and Jack. 

In several days the horse came home, but no buggy 
nor Jack. Mr. Riley could not imagine what had be- 
come of Jack. He saw Parmer Jenkins and he said 
a little colored boy had come to his house and asked 
for work on his farm, and that he had been in a 
runaway scrape, and that the horse had thrown him 
out of the buggy, and what had become of the horse 
and buggy he didn't know. He said he would go back 
to his employer, but he was afraid to go without the 
horse and buggy. 



28 MR. KILEY AND THE MASONS. 

Jack came back to Mr. Riley's a week from the 
aay he disappeared. He explained the whole matter 
to Mr. Riley. 

"See here, boss, it was dis way," said he: "while 
I wus er holdin' ol' Daisy a little ol' boy come 'long 
and filed one ob dem ol' kites an' liked ter er skeered 
Daisy plum out of her wits, and you b'lieve it er 
not, she runned wid me fer er mile and er half wid 
jes' two wheels on de buggy; an' I sho' wus er yellin' 
and Daisy er runnin' as hard as she could go. At las' 
she throwed me clean out ob dat buggy, and de next 
ting I knowed I wus er layin' strutched out dar in de 
middle ob de road. I got up fum dar an' shuk myself 
and run fer all I was wuf to hunt dat boss, but I 
nebber foun her nor nufiin else but some splinters 
whut I tuk ter be de buggy. I seed er house an I 
went dar an axed fer work, an' I found dat Mr. Jenk- 
ins lib dar. I mout er come back yere, but I didn't 
want ter come widout dat boss." 

Mr. Riley burst into a roar of laughter at Jack's 
story, and went into the library where Mrs. Riley and 
Dorothy May were, and told them of Jack's return 
and the story he had told, and they all laughed 
heartily. Of course Jack was glad to learn the horse 
had returned. 

Jack stayed with Mr. Riley many years. 

Next morning after Mr. Riley's visit, his wife and 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 29 

daughter were driven over to Mrs. Mason's and car- 
ried the things with them. Mrs. Mason was very 
appreciative of their generosity. Lizzie dressed the 
children and they looked very neat and clean. Mr. 
Riley went uptown and saw about the carriages, etc., 
then he went to Mrs. Mason's house. Mr. and Mrs. 
Riley and Dorothy May attended the funeral, also 
Miss Emma Morgan and many others of the neigh- 
bors. The funeral procession was a very nice one. 
Several of the neighbors spent the night with Mrs. 
Mason. 

Lizzie went to Mr. Riley's office, as she had prom- 
ised. She looked unusually neat and pretty. 

Mr. Riley was very glad to see her. "Well, my girl, 
have the children started to school?" he asked. 

"All except George and the baby. George ain't got 
no job yet, and ma ain't a tall well to-day." 

A young man v/as in Mr. Riley's office. He was of 
medium height, had hazel eyes and dark com- 
plexion. He was very handsome; at least, Lizzie 
thought him so, Mr. Riley introduced the young 
man as Mr. Charles William Douglas. Mr. Douglas 
was a very sober young man, free from all bad habits; 
and, in fact, besides being moral, he was a Christian 
and a member of the Church. 

Lizzie and Mr. Douglas chatted together with much 
freedom. He was an educated man, and Lizzie did 



30 ME. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

enjoy his conversation so much, although more than 
once he spoke a word of which she did not know the 
meaning. 

After Mr. Douglas left, Mr. Riley undertook to 
each Lizzie her first lesson in typewriting; but he 
found it necessary that she should know more of 
grammar, arithmetic, reading, and spelling, so he 
told her if she would go to school he would give her 
mother as much as her wages would amount to when 
she should have learned typewriting. 

She started to school, but most of the pupils 
laughed at the grammar she used, so much that at 
times she could hardly stand more, but she never 
complained one word at home or to Mr, Riley. Ola 
Higgins teased and annoyed Lizzie every chance she 
got. Poor Lizzie had many hardships to contend 
with. They called her poor tack, grandma, and many 
other names; but Lillian Huntington was a very 
sweet girl, and Lizzie thought a great deal of her. Lil- 
lian thought Lizzie a very nice girl, and thought none 
the less of her because of her grammar. They felt 
free to tell each other of all their troubles and hard- 
ships. 

Lizzie learned fast and soon left off her cracker 
dialect. She was such a lovable girl that she soon 
became a favorite among most of her schoolmates. 

Ola Higgins set her head that she wouldn't like 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 31 

Lizzie, and she didn't; but Ola herself owned that 
Lizzie did "fairly well, considering everything," 

Lizzie soon learned to spell, read, write, and figure 
well and to speak nearly always correctly. She 
stopped school and Mr. Riley taught her typewriting 
and found her a very apt scholar. She soon learned 
typewriting, and Mr. Riley paid her a good salary. 

George got a job that paid him well, but Lizzie 
wanted him and the younger children to have an 
education, so George and the children who were old 
enough went to school. 

Mrs. Mason's health was not at all good, and the 
doctor advised a trip. He said it would do her good 
and divert her mind from her troubles, so in a few 
weeks she made a visit to her sister, Mrs. Morton, 
who lived at Iron Spring, a small place where there 
was a spring containing iron. The place was sit- 
uated about twenty-five miles north of Mrs. Mason's 
home. 

The day she Vv^as to leave Mr. Riley sent his buggy 
for her. She kissed each one of the children numbers 
of times. 

Bobby cried that night, and asked Lizzie dozens of 
times where his mother had gone, till she grew 
weary of answering. Lizzie pressed a kiss on his 
rosy cheek, sang lullabies, and rocked him until he 
was sound asleep, his little curly head resting on the 
shoulder of his lovable sister. 



32 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

Sunday Lizzie took the children to Sunday school. 
She went by Ella Rooney's house. Ella's mother 
died when she was about nine years old, and Ella 
had kept house ever since. 

"O, Ella, come and go to Sunday school with us," 
said Lizzie. 

"Sunday school?" exclaimed Ella with a sneer. 

"Yes," answered Lizzie. "O do go, Ella!" 

"I look like goin'! Of course I hain't goin'," said 
Ella. "I guess you're goin' to show that there dress 
whut you got on, but I guess that rich man give it to 
you." 

Lizzie's feelings were hurt very much, but she said 
nothing and left. 

"Ain't sne so spitey, Liz?" said Jane. 

"Never mind, dear; don't talk that way," replied 
her sister. 

They reached the Sunday school. Mr. Hammond, 
the superintendent, saw them sitting in the church, 
and put Jane, Mary Ann, Ed, and George in the same 
class, and Lizzie in a class with some young ladies. 
Bobby went with her. Lizzie's teacher was Miss 
Marion Johnson, and the smaller children's teacher 
was Miss Alma Evans. The children were very much 
pleased with Sunday school and talked of nothing 
else hardly for a week. 

One day Mary Ann came running in. It was 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 33 

Thanksgiving Day, and they had turkey and many 
other things, making a very nice dinner. Mamie 
Austin came in just about dinner time. "Don't ask 
Mamie to eat dinner with us. She'll eat so much they 
won't be no turkey hardly 'tall fer us," said Mary 
Ann. 

"Why, sister, do you speak so selfishly?" asked 
Lizzie. 

Lizzie asked Mamie to eat with them, and she 
readily accepted her invitation. Lizzie sliced her 
some turkey, and Mary Ann, being near her sister, 
gave her arm a punch, to remind her not to help 
Mamie's plate too liberally; bilt Lizzie pretended not 
to see her. Mamie passed her plate the third time 
for turkey, and thrice Lizzie received a punch from 
Mary Ann. 

Mrs. Mason soon returned home, and all were glad 
to see her. 

Lizzie did typewriting for Mr. Riley for years, and 
Mr. Douglas visited her as frequently as he was 
permitted. Lizzie liked his company very much. 

When Lizzie was eighteen years of age, Mr. Riley 
gave Mrs. Mason a comfortable and nice suburban 
home. She was filled with ecstasy at the idea of 
having a home of her own. Mr. Riley never forgot 
the Masons on Thanksgiving Day or Christmas, and 
Miss Emma was very kind to them always. 
5i;^'; 3 



34 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

Several months after the Masons had moved to 
their new home Mrs. Mason received a letter from 
Col. Elliot, of Jackson, Miss., which read thus: 

' ' Mrs. Cora L. Mason. 

''Dear Madam: The late Mr. Charles M. Monroe, of 
this city, has remembered you in his will, and has 
deposited five thousand dollars in the Mississippi Ex- 
change Bank of this place. 

"Inclosed you will find a check for the amount, 
which you may get cashed any time you wish. 

"Yours truly, J. B. Elliot," 

Mrs. Mason read the letter and exclaimed: "Praise 
the Lord! Johnny's prayer is answered at last." 
For a while Mrs. Mason could hardly believe the 
money was hers. She only had a faint recollection 
of the uncle whom Col. Elliot mentioned. "Now, 
children," said she, "I've got a secret to tell you, but 
you hain't got ter tell nohody 'bout it." 

Before she could tell them what it was, they all 
asked at once, "Whut is it, ma?" in high expectation. 

"Well, gim me time ter tell you," said their mother, 
laughing. 

"Go erhead, ma," said Thomas, who was growing 
restless and impatient. "I'm sure I ain't goin' to tell 
nobody." 

"Your Uncle Charles Monroe has willed your ma 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 35 

five thousand dollars, but, min' you, don't tell a sin- 
gle person, fer they mout git it out that your ma wus 
rich." 

"Well, I think you is rich," answered Jane. "Five 
thousand dollars is a lot of money, ma." 

"Well, I's thankful for it, Jane, but you mustn't 
think I'm rich, caze I'm not." 

Mrs. Mason loaned the money for two years to Mr. 
Riley, at eight per cent interest, and in the meantime 
her children kept the secret well. 

George and the children who were going to school 
learned fast, and when they grew to be young men 
and ladies were sent to college. 

Lizzie had quit typewriting, and now stayed at 
home to help her mother about the housework, etc. 
She was now twenty-five years old. 

Mrs. Mason wanted Mr. Riley to take some money 
for the home he had given her, but he refused to ac- 
cept it. 

Lizzie was very popular now, and so were her 
brothers and sisters. Bobby was still the baby, but 
far from being a baby. He and Thomas were looking 
forward to Christmas with much pleasure. All the 
children would then be at home. Mr. Douglas had 
been invited to share their Christmas dinner, and 
also Mr. Riley and his family and Mr. and Mrs. Mor- 
ton were coming. Mrs. Mason was busy preparing 



36 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 

for the occasion. It was hard to find a bit of dust or 
dirt throughout the entire house. 

All who were invited were present. The dinner 
was served in due time. There was a large turkey 
with cranberries, celery, cakes, pies, custards, etc. 
Then after dinner they had fruits and nuts in great 
variety. 

Three days after Christmas was Dorothy May's 
eighteenth birthday. 

On December 27 Bobby was sent to the post office, 
and returned with an envelope with a one-cent stamp 
on it. 

Lizzie ran to meet him. "Is it for me, baby?" 
asked she. 

Bobby did not answer at first, because he did not 
like to be called baby. I ain't no baby," said he in- 
dignantly. 

"Well, what did you answer for?" Lizzie replied, 
laughing. "Is it for me?" 

"I s'pose it's for us all, sister." 

Bobby handed the letter to Mrs. Mason. 

"I can't imagine who hit's from," said she. 

"Hurry, mother, and see," said Lizzie. 

She opened it and read: "Mr. and Mrs. Riley re- 
quest your presence at the marriage of Dorothy May 
to Henry B. Madison at high noon, December 28." 

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason in aston- 



MR. KILEY AND THE MASONS. 37 

ishment. "I thought Lizzie would er married afore 
Dorothy May." 

Lizzie blushed and tried to smile. "Why, mother," 
she said, "why did you think that?" 

"Gaze I had reason to," said Mrs. Mason, "fer Mr. 
Douglas has come to be most like one of the family." 

Lizzie and George were the only members of the 
family who attended the wedding. Bobby and 
Thomas were very anxious to go, but their mother 
objected. 

The day of the wedding was beautiful. The bride 
was dressed in cream silk and wore an exquisite 
white veil. She held in her hand a beautiful bouquet 
of white roses, which brought to her memory the 
days of her childhood, and especially the day when 
Lizzie had placed in her hand some pretty wild roses. 
The groom was a very handsome young man, and 
finely attired. The entire house was beautifully dec- 
orated. An elegant dinner was served. Many beau- 
tiful presents were given, cut glass, gold and silver- 
ware, and jewels. Mr. Riley's present to his daugh- 
ter was a check for one thousand dollars to be spent 
when they should commence housekeeping. 

Mr. and Mrs. Madison left next day for a bridal 
tour through Florida and Guba. In several weeks 
they returned and spent some time with Dorothy 
May's parents. 



38 MR. KILEY AND THE MASONS. 

George, Ed, Mary Ann, and Jane after a time quit 
school and got good employment and received good 
salaries. George became a bookkeeper, Mary Ann a 
scbool-teaclier, Ed a stenographer, and Jane worked 
as a milliner for a while, then stayed at home with 
her mother. Thomas and Bobby graduated at a lead- 
ing educational institution. Bobby became a college 
professor and Thomas a preacher. 

Several years after Dorothy May's marriage, Mr. 
Douglas and Lizzie were married. Many attended 
the wedding. Mr. Madison was best man, and Mrs. 
Madison was matron of honor. Mr. and Mrs. Riley 
were also there. The bride was dressed in white 
trimmed in cream-colored lace and shirred. She held 
some orange blossoms in her white, kid-gloved hand. 
Adorning her head was a nice cream-colored veil. 
The handsome groom was elegantly dressed. They 
were a handsome couple. Many delightful refresh- 
ments were served. Mr. and Mrs. Riley gave them 
a costly gold-lined silver tea set. There were numer- 
ous other presents, including a handsome cut glass 
water set from Dorothy May. After the ceremony 
the groom placed a ten-dollar gold piece in the 
preacher's hand. They left next day at 1:30 p.m. for 
Daytona, Fla. When they returned home they 
boarded with Mrs. Mason for a year, then they 
bought a nice home not far from their mother. 



MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 39 

All of Mrs. Mason's children married except Mary 
Ann and Ed. Mary Ann remained at home with her 
mother as long as the latter lived. Mrs. Mason's 
health much improved and she lived to be a very old 
lady. Mr. Riley lived also to quite an age, and he 
was a friend of Mrs. Mason as long as he lived. 
Among his kindnesses to Mrs. Mason he saw that 
Hustler paid her what he justly owed. Johnnie's 
prayer was answered, and Mrs. Mason was provided 
for always. Although she never changed her cracker 
dialect, she was thought none the less of on that ac- 
count, for she was a very worthy Christian woman. 

Lizzie is a lovely Christian character; and as in 
her girlhood she placed roses in the hands of Mr. 
Riley and Dorothy May, so even now she scatters 
roses along the paths of those who need them most. 

"Honor and fame from no condition rise; 
Act well your part, there all the honor lies." 



ALFRED'S SEARCH FOR THE END OF 
THE RAINBOW, 



Alfeed was crying bitterly, for his mother would 
not allow him to go and stay awhile with Henry 
Sailor, his little friend. He had just reached the 
barn and lain down on the hay and was sobbing 
loudly when he heard some one open the barn door, 
and in a few moments he found himself in the arms 
of "Uncle Ben," a faithful old colored man who had 
been with Alfred's father ever since Alfred could re- 
member. 

"Whut's dis po' child cry in' 'bout, honey?" asked 
the old man. 

"O, Uncle Ben, I wanter go to see Henry!" an- 
swered the child, sobbing. 

"Let's sot down here an' let Unkel Ben tell yer er 
story 'bout de rainbow and de bag ob gol' at de en' ov 
it." 

Henry was delighted, and his sobs immediately 
ceased. "Uncle Ben" began his story, and this is 
what he told: 

"Well, honey, dey useter tell Unkel Ben w'en he 
wuz a leetle boy dat ef he'd go ter de en' ob de rain- 
bow he'd fin' er bag ob gol', an' O how Unkel Ben 



alfeed's search. 41 

useter wish an' wish lie could go dar! But Unkel 
Ben's an ol' man an'll soon be dead, I spec', an' 'e 
hain't never foun' de en' ob de rainbow yit." 

Alfred had been listening intently to "Uncle 
Ben's" story, and had been looking up into his large 
black eyes. "O, Uncle Ben! reckon I could find it?" 
asked Alfred, as if he was thinking of taking a search 
for it. 

"I don' reckon yer cou'd," answered the old man, 
laughing. 

One morning, awhile after Uncle Ben had told 
Alfred about the rainbow, Alfred saw one, and de- 
cided he would try and find the end of it and get the 
bag of gold. He slipped out of the back door and 
started in search of the end of the rainbow. After 
he had walked about two miles he noticed that it 
seemed as if he was quite as far from the rainbow as 
when he first left home. "0!" thought Alfred, "if I 
were only at home in my own little chair or bed I 
wouldn't care if I never did see any gold any more. 
About this time a hunter came along near where 
Alfred was. "O, mister, will you tell me where the 
end of the rainbow is?" asked Alfred. 

"The best thing for you is to go home," said the 
man in a gruff manner. Alfred began to cry. 

In the meanwhile Alfred's mother and the family 
and neighbors were hunting in vain for the lost 



42 ALFRED S SEARCH. 

Alfred. But they all went in opposite directions from 
that of Alfred. 

Soon after Alfred began to cry an old colored man 
on a horse came along and, seeing the child, stopped 
immediately. "Po chile; whut is you doin' here?" 
he asked. 

"O, I'm on my way to find the end of the rainbow. 
Uncle Ben says I'll find a bag of gold if I get there. 
Can you tell me where it is?" 

"What am your name, and where does you live?" 
he asked. 

"My name's Alfred Stone," said the child, "and I 
live on Pine Street, in Waltersville." 

"Come on, and I'll take you home on dis boss," said 
the man. 

He helped the boy upon the horse, and he was soon 
in his home on his mother's knee, while she caressed 
him. "O, my sweet baby boy," said Alfred's mother, 
"why did you do so?" 

"O, mamma, I wanted to get a bag of gold so I 
could buy you an' papa something nice an' help the 
poor," replied Alfred. 

Uncle Ben laughed, and Mr. Stone (Alfred's father) 
gave the man that brought Alfred home five dollars. 

Alfred never forgot his search for the rainbow as 
long as he lived, and he never cared to search for it 
any more. 



BESSIE AKB MARIA; OB, THE TWO 
OBPIIAJSrS. 

Poor little Bessie's and Maria's mother had been 
dead only a few days. Their father had been dead 
many years. One of the neighbors was keeping them, 
but Bessie had heard her say that she could not keep 
them many more days. 

The children saw a finely dressed lady come to the 
house many times. One morning the lady came, and 
Bessie and Maria were called into the room where 
she was. It was Mrs. Harvard. She was President of 
the Home Missionary Society. "Good morning, little 
ladies," said she, when the children entered the room. 
"If you like, I shall come for you this afternoon and 
carry you to the Orphans' Home. There you shall be 
very well cared for, and I hope you shall be very 
much pleased. Do you think you would like to go?" 

The children looked at one another. Maria was the 
older, so she said, "Yes, ma'am, I should;" then 
Bessie said, "I would too." Bessie was nine years 
old and Maria was eleven years old. 

When they left the room Bessie remarked that 
Mrs. Harvard's eyes were beautiful. "O yes," said 
Maria, "they are like our mother's used to be." Tears 



44 BESSIE AND MARIA. 

ran down the children's faces. "We never had any- 
thing much to cry for when our mother lived," said 
Bessie. "Our poor mother is happier than we now," 
said her sister. The children decided to begin to 
pack their things. "Here's our Bibles that our dear 
mother gave us last Christmas, Maria," said Bessie. 
The children looked at them and wept bitterly. 

The lady came in the afternoon and carried them 
to the Orphans' Home. The matron, Miss Sherwood, 
came out and welcomed the little girls. She tried 
to make them comfortable and satisfied, and they 
were as much so as they could be without their 
mother. After they had been in the Orphans' Home 
about a year a lady took them. She was Mrs. Rich. 
The children hated to leave Miss Sherwood; and 
had they known how Mrs. Rich was going to treat 
them, I suppose it would have almost broken their 
little hearts. After they arrived all of the servants 
were turned off and the two little children were 
forced to do the work of two half-grown servants, 
and were often punished most severely and unmerci- 
fully for mere trifles. Mrs. Rich told her neighbors 
that she guessed those little chaps thought they 
would eat, sleep, and play lady, but she would soon 
show them what they were to do and not to do. The 
neighbors all agreed with her but Mrs. Eastman. 
She disagreed with her very much, and reproved her. 



BESSIE AND MARIA. 45 

One day Bessie came to Maria crying lil^e her heart 
would break. "0, Maria, I've did something dread- 
ful!" 

"What is it?" asked Maria. 

"O, I broke one of Mrs. Rich's fine glasses!" 

Maria looked very troubled. "I hope she won't be 
angry with you," said she. "Come, let's tell her about 
it." 

"O, I can't!" said Bessie, "I c-a-n't!" She was cry- 
ing bitterly. 

The little girls went into the room v/here Mrs. 
Rich was. "O, Mrs. Rich, please don't be angry; 
Bessie has broke one of your glasses. Please don't 
punish her. O please don't!" Maria could say no 
more for her sobs. Poor little Bessie felt as if her 
heart was going to jump out. 

"Shut up your mouth, both of you; and Bessie 
Green, you come into this room with me," said Mrs, 
Rich. She beat the poor child most unmercifully. 
Bessie was screaming terrifically, and Mrs. Eastman, 
hearing the child's screams, sent her son, Mac, to see 
what was the matter. Mrs. Rich knew what it was 
he wanted, so she, being mortified, told Maria to go 
to the door, and told her to tell him that Bessie had 
fallen. Maria would not tell a story. "O, our mother 
never let us tell stories when she lived," said Maria. 
Mrs. Rich then started on Maria; and no one answer- 



46 BESSIE AND MAEIA. 

ing the door, Mac went home. His mother then went 
and knew at once, when she heard the children 
screaming, what was the matter. That evening the 
children took their Bibles, went off to themselves, 
and prayed that they might be taken from there. 
The next day Mrs. Eastman reported Mrs. Rich to 
the Orphans' Home, and Miss Sherwood herself came 
for them. In about six weeks the children were 
given to Mrs. Markham, a young widow, and a very 
sweet lady. She said she wanted two sweet little 
girls to keep her company 

Mrs. Markham was very kind to the little girls, and 
they did not have much work to do. She let 
them study at home. She said she had been 
acquainted with their mother. She took them to 
their mother's grave and they placed beautiful flow- 
ers upon it. Mrs. Markham kissed them and tucked 
them in the nice little bed she had bought for them. 
"You treat us good, like our dear mother used "to," 
they would say most every night, and the devoted 
sisters would go to bed with their arms about each 
other's necks, and dream the sweetest of dreams. 

Mrs. Rich was fined $3,000 for abusing the little 
orphans. 



MABJOEIE' S Bin THDA Y. 



Marjorie's mother was in the kitchen giving out 
orders to Aunt Mandy, the cook, for Marjorie's 
birthday dinner. It was her birthday, and her mother 
was going to have some little girls come and dine 
with her. A boy came up the steps and rang the 
door bell hurriedly. Mrs. Summers, Marjorie's 
mother, went to the door. The boy handed her an 
envelope containing a telegram which said that 
Marjorie's grandmother was very sick, and requested 
Mrs. Summers to come as soon as possible. She did 
not finish giving out the orders for dinner. "Well, 
little daughter, your grandmother is very sick, so I 
will have to go to her soon," said Mrs. Summers. 
"Aunt Mandy will fix your birthday dinner, but, on 
account of my absence, you will have to be content 
not to invite the little girls." Poor little Marjorie 
could not speak, for she felt as if there v/as a large 
lump in her throat. But her mother told her that 
her Aunt Ruth was coming to stay with her. This 
helped her bear her mother's absence a little better. 

"When dinner time came Marjorie did not have any 
appetite for any of the nice things which v/ere on 
the table. There were cakes, pies, custards, chicken, 



48 makjorie's birthday. 

turkey, oysters, and many other things, but Marjorie 
did not eat much, she was so disappointed. It was 
cloudy and raining. After dinner she sat by the 
window listening to the rain beating against the 
window. Her Aunt Ruth had not come. "Suppose 
she does not come," thought Marjorie, "what shall I 
do?" Then tears began to roll down her rosy little 
cheeks. She was in such deep study, and was crying 
so that she did not hear the door bell ring. It was 
her Aunt Ruth. "Did you think auntie wasn't com- 
ing, dear?" asked her aunt, as she came into the 
room where little Marjorie sat weeping by the win- 
dow. Her aunt took her in her arms and kissed her 
over and over again. Marjorie was soon sound asleep 
in her dear auntie's arms. Then her aunt laid her 
on a nice bed, and Marjorie did not awaken until 
about three o'clock in the afternoon. "0, Aunt Ruth, 
the sun is shining, isn't it?" she said. 

"Yes," said her aunt; "would you not like to go for 
a walk?" 

"0, let's go to the hospital," said Marjorie. 

"Well, but would you not like to take the poor 
little suffering and afflicted children something to 
make them happy?" 

"O yes," said she; and she filled a large basket 
with things. 

They saw so many poor little children. When 



49 

Marjorie gave them the things she brought, they 
seemed so glad that it pleased her to see them. She 
visited the hospital often. She realized that it was 
far "more blessed to give than to receive." That 
night Aunt Ruth told Marjorie many beautiful Bible 
stories. Then her aunt read from the Bible and 
prayed a very beautiful prayer. Little Marjorie 
prayed for her grandmother's healing. The doctors 
had no hope of her recovery, but she took a change 
for the better and was soon quite well and enjoyed 
better health than for a number of years. And 
Marjorie's prayer was answered. When her mamma 
came home she told her she never had a nicer birth- 
day. Marjorie lived to be an old lady, but never had 
a more pleasant one, and she never forgot it as long 
as she lived. 
4 



B OB ' 8 BES OL UTION. 



Rob Makvin was the only child of Mr. and Mrs. 
Marvin, and he was spoiled. Rob was disobedient, 
stubborn, and self-willed. When he could not have 
his way, he would whine and pout and say he wished 
he was at grandma's house. In the summer he was 
carried to grandma's home in the country. Grandma 
had early supper and told Rob it was time little boys 
were in bed. He said that his mamma didn't send 
him to bed till they went. "Yes, Rob," said grandma, 
"perhaps they don't, but you must mind me now." 
He insisted on sitting up, and pouted. Grandma 
thought perhaps he might become homesick if she 
insisted on him going to bed, for he was only eight 
Shears of age, so she let him sit up longer to-night. 
Rob sat up so late that he overslept himself next 
morning. 

"Well, little man, you are a late bird this morn- 
ing," said grandma. "Your grandpa and I have eaten 
breakfast, but you may come nov/ and eat some- 
thing." 

"I don't want any breakfast," said Rob, pouting. 

"All right," said grandma, "you may come and 
go into the sitting room, or you may go and see me 



roe's resolution. 51 

feed the chickens." Before grandma fed the chick- 
ens she put away the food on the table. Rob saw a 
nice little plate and a small knife, fork, and spoon. 
He was sure that grandma had fixed all this for him. 
There was nice fried chicken, boiled eggs, milk, bis- 
cuit, butter, gravy, and hominy. how his little 
rosy mouth did water as he saw grandma put away 
the nice food which he would have eaten had he not 
been stubborn. But he thought grandma would beg 
him to eat, and after she had begged awhile he 
would accept; but she did not beg, and now hov/ 
hungry poor little Rob was! 

"Well, son, grandma hopes you will be in a better 
humor at dinner. Come, let's feed the chickens." 
Rob thought he never saw so many chickens in all 
his life. He was so hungry by the time dinner was 
ready that he ate so much that he became nauseated 
and had indigestion, O so bad. Grandma worked 
hard with him and grandpa went for the doctor. 
Rob got so tired of taking medicine. He made up 
his mind he would never be stubborn or self-willed 
again, or disobedient. He told his grandma all 
about his resolution, and you may be sure she was 
very glad to know about it. Rob kept his word, 
and always did what grandma told him to do. He 
learned to milk the cow and feed the chickens, water 
the horse, and do many other things to help his 



52 rob's resolution. 

grandparents, and they called him their "little 
helper." Rob liked this very much. He spent his 
ninth birthday at grandpa and grandma's. Grandpa 
gave him a nice little colt, and grandma gave 
him a little heifer calf. 

When Rob went home his mamma and papa 
thought he was almost like a new boy. He told 
them all about what disobedience and stubbornness 
had caused. His mother and father and schoolmates 
and everybody that knew him were very proud of 
him. His grandparents shipped his colt and calf to 
him, and his parents thought them very nice pres- 
ents. Rob never broke his resolution. He went to 
his grandparents' home nearly every year, and 
looked forward to the time with great pleasure. 



POEMS. 



THE OLD FOLKS A T HOME. 



Before the hearth they sat, 
Before the old homemade mat, 
Grandpa and grandma, old and gray; 
The old home was going to decay. 

The furniture too had quite served its days. 

And through the broken panes the sunshine spread 

its rays. 
Happy were they who occupied 
The seats which were made of oxen hide. 



THE NIGHT THE SNOWFALL CA3IE. 



A SNOWFALL came one dreary night, 
And with its silence deep and white 
It blinded everybody's sight — 
The night the snowfall came. 

It covered little Mary's tomb, 
Where fairest roses used to bloom. 
And over us it cast a gloom — 
The night the snowfall came. 



56 POEMS. 

We gazed upon the little grave, 
Where fragrant flowers used to wave, 
And many a sigh and tear we gave — 
The night the snowfall came. 

But we will meet our little one 
In our home beyond the sun, 
When our work on earth is done, 
Where the snow shall never fall. 



SAN^7\1 CLAUS, 



Santa Claus is a nice old fellow; 
He brings up apples nice and mellov,-, 
And oranges so pretty and svv^eet 
That look most too good to eat. 

He brings to little girls and boys 

The very nicest kind of toys; 

And if you are very good, 

He'll bring you nice ones made of wood. 

He brought Bess a doll — she named it Dot- 
And a stove, a skillet, and little pot; 
And to Fred a rubber ball 
And a train, but 'twas very small. 



POEMS. 57 

THE MOTHER AND BABY, 

While baby lay peacefully sleeping 
Some one softly to the cradle crept, 
Softly tipped to the cradle where baby slept; 

'Twas mother — she at baby was peeping. 

She stood for a moment watching baby's hands. 
She thought them the sweetest in any lands; 
And then she watched the closed eyes, 

When lo! they opened in surprise. 



GRAND MO THER. 



Grandmother sat in her old armchair. 

Which was drawn in the corner near the fire; 

Her face showed no sign of the least despair. 
And the children of her stories did never tire. 

She spoke of the times long, long ago, 
From her childhood days to the present age. 

And sometimes tears would begin to flow; 
Her history would have filled many a page. 
5 



58 POEMS. 

She would comfort the children when their hearts 
were sad, 

And they would always come to grandmother. 
For she always tried to make them glad; 

And they loved her better than any other. 



THE FORLORN GIRL. 

Before the fire she sat forlorn and drear, 
Feeling sad and forsaken, poor dear! 
Thinking no one cared for her soul. 
Then I repeated the story of old. 

Down her pale cheek there trickled a tear. 
And what I said she was glad to hear. 
And as I saw her rise from her seat, 
A smile and a tear seemed quickly to meet. 

Her face was beautiful and bright. 

And her heart was now very light. 

She said she had welcomed the Saviour in; 

Her heart was free from the stain of sin. 



POEMS. 59 

LOVE FOR THE 8 A VI UR. 

I LOVE the blessed Saviour, 

He's all the world to me; 
And now my heart is yearning 

The more like him to be. 

I love the blessed Saviour, 
He did so much for me. 

tell me, tender Shepherd! 
What shall I do for thee? 

1 love my blessed Saviour 
Who suffered on the cross. 

sinner, won't you trust him? 
Thy sin is only dross. 

1 love the blessed Saviour, 

I love the Saviour's name; 
He's just the same forever. 
Yes, always just the same. 

Chorus. 

Each day, dear Lord, I love thee more and more; 
I love thee better, Lord, than e'er I have before. 
Of blessings thou dost give us a full store; 
O how I love my Saviour! 



60 POEMS. 

CALLING, 



The Saviour is seeking some lost sheep to-day, 

He's seeking the lambs who've gone from the fold. 

Wandered away! wandered away! 
To perish from the cold, 

O, sinner, have you strayed from the Saviour's love 

Into the darksome paths of sin? 
O why do you wish into these paths to rove 

When the Saviour is waiting to welcome you in? 

He is calling, calling you to-day. 

O come to the Saviour, do not delay! 
If you will only to the Saviour come. 

By and by you'll find a happy home. 



SPRINGTIME. 

The sweetest season of the year is springtime; 
It is almost wholly one season of rhyme. 
The little birds begin to come in. 
And to kill them must be a great sin. 

The pretty green leaves begin to put out, 
And how pleasant 'tis then to walk about! 
The flowers soon begin to bloom. 
And give to earth their sweet perfume. 




mimSL?!: CONGRESS 



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